Maid for Scandal

MAID FOR SCANDAL

A Spicy Regency Short Story

By Anthea Lawson

Kindle Edition copyright 2011 Anthea Lawson.

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All characters in this story are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Anthea Lawson lives in the Pacific Northwest. Discover more by visiting
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MAID FOR SCANDAL

It was a splendid idea—or had seemed so at the time. Impersonate a maid in order to be close to Giles Wildering for two glorious weeks. How daring!

Anna Harcourt frowned at the pail of soapy water in front of her and resisted the urge to fling her scrub-brush down the hall. The very long hall, patterned in black and white marble, and exceedingly uncomfortable on her knees. The hall which she was now responsible for scrubbing to a flawless shine.

When she first conceived of the disguise, it had seemed perfect. The family of her best friend, Belinda Caswell, owned a nearby estate. She would pretend to be staying with the Caswells, while secretly masquerading as a maid at the Wildering’s mansion. Belinda was delighted to help Anna with her deception.

“It’s like something from a novel!” Belinda had said as they laid their plans.

Besides, it was the only way Anna could see Giles—he of the bright blue eyes and flattering words. Just think, to breathe the same air, to see him on a daily basis and let the fresh bud of their new love come to full flower. She had no doubt she would end the summer transformed, no longer inexperienced Anna Harcourt, but a true lady, known by the name of Mrs. Giles Wildering.

She had thought that, as soon as she arrived, Giles would somehow feel it in the air. He would come and sweep her off her feet, and…. Well, in truth, her imagination had not carried her much beyond arriving at Wildering Hall.

Unfortunately, there were a number of practicalities she had failed to take into account. First, she’d no idea how much the utter drudgery of servant’s work would keep her away from the house’s grander inhabitants. Secondly, as the most junior member of the staff, she was allotted the worst of tasks. And thirdly, perhaps most horribly, she had to rise at an excruciating hour, when the light of dawn was only a pale thought in the sky.

No one to gently open her curtains after nine-o-clock, or bring her a pot of hot chocolate.  No one to stir up her coals and make sure her dressing-gown was laid out. Instead, a bowl of porridge and a scrub-brush had ushered her into her first day as a maid.

“Stop your daydreaming, and get to work!” Mrs. Foutch, the housekeeper, marched to where Anna knelt. “The family will wake in one hour, and this hallway had better be spotless. Spotless and
dry
.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Anna mumbled the words, trying not to sound like a governess-educated London miss.

“Lady Caswell recommended you—though I don’t know what her ladyship was thinking.” The housekeeper sniffed, as if the gentry were wholly inscrutable. “Well then. When you’ve finished, I’ll be in the blue parlor.”

Without waiting for a reply, Mrs. Foutch turned away, the clack of her boot-heels reproachful. Anna sighed and dipped her brush into the water. The housekeeper was right to be doubtful of her letter of recommendation. Belinda was excellent at forging her mother’s hand, but neither of them had known quite what to say. Perhaps they had been too effusive about Anna’s supposed qualities as a maid.

As she scrubbed, Anna could not help thinking of Giles. Unfortunately, she had not been able to catch sight of him yesterday when she’d arrived. Later, she’d learned that he had been out riding for most of the afternoon, then off to a gathering of friends. Today, however, he would see her, and all this trouble would be worth it. Anna felt her heart take wing at the thought.

He would recognize her immediately, of course. After all, had they not met secretly on two occasions? Sadly, both times had been too short for more than whispered promises. But at a garden party only a fortnight ago he had held her hand beneath the rose arbor and told her he found her irresistibly beautiful. She had let him steal a kiss—just a small one—but the memory had engraved itself upon her heart.

Then Giles had departed London rather abruptly, leaving only a note imploring her to keep him in her thoughts. Once he had gone, there was no color, no vividness left in her life. She simply couldn’t bear it. Her heart was breaking for want of him.

Coming here in disguise was altogether impetuous of her, she knew it—but love admitted no boundaries. Hadn’t Shakespeare himself said that very thing? So here she was, and soon she and Giles would be together.

This happy thought carried her to the end of the hall, despite the ache in her arms and the bruises surely forming on her knees. Anna let out a sigh and stood to survey the floor stretching behind her. Why, she had done rather a fine job of it. Perhaps she would make an excellent maid, after all. Although, as soon as she could speak with Giles, everything would change.

Sadly, the ‘young master,’ as the butler called him, was a late riser. A very late riser. Anna had completed more chores than she could count and had yet to catch sight of him. The servant’s midday meal came, and Cook pressed bread and cheese into Anna’s hands, urging her to go out into the sunshine.

“Ye’ve a bit of a wan face now, dearie. The fresh air will do ye good. Go on then.”

Anna gave her a grateful nod, then slipped out the kitchen door before anyone else could speak to her. Except for a red-haired girl who kept staring daggers at her, the other maids and footmen seemed pleasant enough—but Anna couldn’t risk becoming friendly. Her pretense was too flimsy, and truly, she had no idea what to say to them.

The kitchen garden was full of rows of lettuces, and the air smelled of thyme and lavender. Anna took a deep breath. Heavens, she was tired. Even wearier than the time she and Belinda had watched the sun come up after dancing all night at the Caswell’s annual ball.

A sunlit patch of uncut grass beyond the gate beckoned to her, and she slipped the latch and went to sit in the tall green stems. The bread and cheese were delicious—quite as good as any canapés she had tasted in Town. A pity her lunch was gone so quickly, as it had only taken the edge off her hunger. She let out a deep breath and lay back in the grass, arms pillowed under her head. Just a short rest…

A tremendous crunching sound woke her. Anna opened her eyes, then let out a shriek and scrambled back, away from the long muzzle with enormous teeth chomping the grasses beside her head.

The horse—for indeed, it was—gave a sharp whinny and bobbed its head.

“Here now,” a deep male voice said. “What have you found, Windsor? A new kind of squawking bird, come to roost at Wildering Hall?”

A tall, sandy-haired man rounded the horse. When he saw Anna sprawled in the grass, his eyebrows went up, and his green eyes lit with amusement.

She hastily scrambled to her feet, then met his gaze directly. “I’d thank you to control your horse, sir.”

They both glanced at Windsor. Although he was an imposing creature—very large and black—he was browsing placidly. She felt her cheeks warm. Clearly she had been in no danger. It was just the abruptness of her waking that had set her nerves on edge.

“Indeed.” The man shook his head. His solemn expression was spoiled by the smile that teased the corners of his mouth. “He’s a terrible menace. My apologies, miss.”

“No matter—I’d best get back to my duties.”

Should she drop him a curtsy? The stranger was not particularly finely dressed. Certainly not in such a fashionable state as Giles Wildering—and his rugged features did not compare in the least to the master of the house. The man’s cravat was hardly tied, and his coat was worn at the cuffs. Not gentry.

So, then, would a maid curtsy to a groom? Anna smoothed her hands down her cotton skirts. Drat, there was so much she did not know about her supposed station in life.

The man tilted one eyebrow up, and she dropped her gaze, realizing she had been staring at him longer than was proper.

“Don’t let me keep you,” he said.

“Of course not. Good day, sir.” She settled for a quick bob up and down, then hastily made for the kitchen door. Heavens, could that have been any more awkward?

All thoughts of her meeting with the stranger were soon buried beneath a mountain of household chores. After she had dusted the shelves in the library and helped one of the other maids fold the linens, Mrs. Foutch set her to polishing the silver in the butler’s pantry.

At least it was easy on the knees, though her fingers were soon smudged with tarnish. Still, she was put out. How would Giles ever find her here, tucked away in the pantry?

Then, blessing of blessings, she heard his voice. Anna hastily set down the spoon she was polishing and pulled the door a bit wider. There he was—walking down the hall with the head groom. Giles looked splendid, dressed for riding in a dark blue coat that showed his broad shoulders to advantage, with a sky-blue waistcoat beneath. His cravat was tied in a perfect knot, and his boots shone as if they had never been marred by contact with a stirrup.

A little sigh escaped her lips.

He was deep in conversation—she caught something about a new horse as the men approached. Her heart pounded wildly. Any moment now he would lift his head and see her. Anticipation and joy sizzled through her whole body. She opened the door another few inches. Soon, soon.

Now.

Now, their eyes would meet, and his lips would form her name. Anna held her breath. He was a mere yard away…a foot away… close enough for her to reach out and touch his arm…

He walked past. Without even noticing her. Despair washed over Anna, and her breath left her in a low, quiet sob. She nearly called his name aloud in desperation—but it was too late.